


the Pitfalls of Forever

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [60]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, concerned!Sami, moody!Steen, morose!Steen, stealth angst, stealth romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-06 13:51:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11601966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: A tiny baby wrestler rides through the uncertainty of life, worried that the very foundation on which he has built his kingdom, is going to crumble right out from beneath his feet.Or, in which a young Sami is pondering the trials of his dear friend, and struggling to empathize.





	the Pitfalls of Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> So, nobody died in the world of professional wrestling this last week, which is nice, as there where some nasty botches going around. Everyone lived though, so all is well! Mostly. Irl is giving me less trouble at the present moment, although that is probably going to change later this month, but for now I am mostly free to geek out about wrestling to my hearts content ^.^
> 
> No warning for this really, it's just some good old fashioned bby!Steenerico fuckery. Hope you like it!

“You drive like my grandmother,” Kevin grouses from his relaxed position in the back seat, lounging in the car like he can, completely unconcerned with the fact that he has no seat belt on.

(dangerous)

“Your grandmother probably can’t even drive anymore,” Sami replies, pulling over into a decrepit looking patch of sidewalk, hoping that he will be able to talk Kevin into putting his damn seat belt on before they get back onto the road.

(Maybe if he lets Kevin drive)

Kevin always does put his seat belt on while driving, at least.

And then yells at _Sami_ if he doesn’t put his own seat belt on fast enough for Kevin’s taste.

Because hypocrisy.

-Jerk-

“Hey. Fuck you, don’t talk shit about my grandmother. She could kick your ass from here to Russia.”

Sami rolls his eyes, shutting off the car and snatching the bag of trash out of the passengers side seat and popping his door open.

“I did not insult your grandmother. You started this whole conversation in the first place,” Sami says, hauling himself up and out of the car, the plastic bag swinging from his fingers.

Kevin makes a move to retort, but Sami shuts the door on his irate grumbling, not able to contain a smile at the outraged face he gets for his insolence. Ignoring the rude had gesture Kevin raises in reply, Sami spins on his heel and skips over to the trash can he had spotted from the road.

The garbage receptacle is filled hallway with very decayed junk, but there is room for the bag of discarded takeout containers and old cups that Kevin so graciously dug out of the floor boards before they left the last show.

Admittedly, Kevin did said cleaning with the maximum amount of complaining that is possible at any given time, and for any given reason.

And also, Kevin would not let Sami take over, which Sami had offered to do literally just to make Kevin stop carrying on like he was being forced into slave labor.

(Which Sami still doesn’t understand.)

(Kevin did not **have** to)

So why exactly it was such a big deal, Sami is unsure. But, regardless, it got done. And they had yet to throw away the gathered up refuse. Sami notes the lid to the trash can lid sitting on the ground, leaned up again the side of the trash can. He laments the lack of a recycling bin for a moment, deciding to make an effort to dump their trash off at one next time, for now just making do with what is in front of him.

Sami reaches down, un-sticking the lid from it’s position, half buried into the ground, having been there for quite a while, Sami guesses off hand. It doesn’t actually fit the can very well anymore, but Sami gets it to teeter precariously on top of the can rim, and that is good enough for his conscience. He turns, strolling back to the car, half expecting Kevin to still be grumpy and gruff.

However, as Sami walks back to the car, he sees that Kevin no longer has his hand up in the window, directing his middle finger Sami’s way. In fact, as Sami draws closer to the car, he notes that Kevin has laid back down into the backseat and is now lounging on his back, looking supremely bored and annoyed.

Sami blinks, feeling vaguely curios, but dismissing the strange thoughts of asking Kevin what is wrong almost as soon as they pop into his head. Kevin had been acting odd since losing his title the other day, lashing out less but still acting weirdly aloof and quiet and slightly forlorn. Sami would swear that he has caught Kevin staring off longingly into the distance with a look on his face akin to one having just recently lost a beloved relative.

(Well)

(It is **_Kevin_ ** after all)

He may as well marry a title. It would be a marriage to last the ages.

Kevin’s true love was wrestling after all, so it would be fitting.

Kevin doesn’t even look up as Sami’s approaches the car, barely even twitches when Sami opens the drivers door. For some reason, Kevin’s passive, quiet backseat angst was really rubbing Sami the wrong way. He can feel the irritation creeping up his spine, the weight of the last few days on the road with a silent, mopey, despondent Kevin having taken more of a toll on Sami himself than he had originally anticipated. He recalls the long stretches of dead air between them, like Kevin has been traveling by himself and not with another human being whom he can talk about his problems with.

Sami flinches, leaning against the steering wheel as he internally berates himself for the unbelievable narcissism of that last thought. Really, Sami has no right thinking things like that. Kevin is allowed to share or not share _exactly_ as much as he wants to, and Sami has no right to presume that Kevin HAS to tell Sami **anything**. The fact that he just even **_implied_ ** that Kevin was under any obligation to share his problems with Sami was enough to make Sami want to blurt out an unprompted apology.

(Honestly)

(Kevin could sulk if he wanted)

-Still-

-Kevin could stand to just-

-Snap out of it-

(or something)

Which most likely would not happen, at least not anytime soon. The most life Sami had seen out of Kevin had been when he had slammed Sami into a cement wall, immediately after losing said title that had started all this. It was the first and last time Sami had seen something other than lifeless apathy in Kevin’s dark eyes, since losing his precious slab of leather adorned with all its shiny metal.

(Not that Sami would start a fight with Kevin just to see something flicker to life behind those eyes he loves so much)

Sami likes to think he is not a petty man.

(although the ice has melted, the Taco Bell cup is still half full of water)

Sami likes to think that he is the sensible one, out of the two of them.

(the liquid sloshes around in the cup as he moves)

Sami is, admittedly, not the most sensible person in their group of friends.

(Kevin does not even look up when the back seat door opens)

Pierre, for example, would probably have a better solution to this particular problem.

- **Beef** would probably have a better solution-

- _This_ is not a good solution to anything-

Sami likes to think that he is the most level headed, at least between him and Kevin.

(the water makes a very satisfying sound as it cascades out of the cup and splashes over Kevin’s prone, listless form)

Sami is reminded, in these moments, that he is just as messed up as Kevin.

(he does wonder, sometimes, how they function at all)

It is a miracle, really, that Kevin and himself have not killed each other just yet.

Or driven each other irrevocably insane.

(give or take)

-Like we aren't insane already-

“The fuck, Sami!”

Kevin sits up, smacking his head into the low ceiling of the back seat, spluttering and cursing incomprehensibly and wiping at the water trailing down his face. He slams himself backwards against the door on the opposite side of the car as Sami, groaning and snarling out a string of expletives and bastardizations of Sami’s name, peppered with curses upon Sami’s whole family.

“You looked hot,” Sami says in reply to the vicious glare he gets, the look in Kevin’s eyes more of a demand than a question.

-Uh-

In the **_heat_ ** sense.

Not...

“Okay, that sounded kinda lewd. I meant, you know, warmth. You looked really- warm.”

-oh _god_ -

-just **shut up** -

- ** _please_** -

Sami coughs awkwardly into a tightly clenched fist, realizing that this is the most strained silence of the last few days, bar none.

And it was not caused by Kevin’s sulking, but instead the tense atmosphere was orchestrated by Sami’s attempt to dispel Kevin’s dark spirit.

Which, now that Sami is thinking about it, was a supremely stupid idea, a ridiculous plan, and a disastrous execution.

“You are the- _goddamn it_ , there is water all over the fucking seats. This is a rental, you pasty, scrawny-”

Sami drops his hand, the now empty cup dangling from his fingers, little droplets of water still occasionally making their way to the rim and rolling either to the ground or across Sami’s skin.

Sami supposes that it is only right that they both get wet.

-Would you _stop_ -

“Kevin, it's just water, relax,” Sami blurts, refusing to let his brain waddle down the strange roads that it seems intent on traveling down today.

Kevin looks up at him with a searing glare that tells Sami all he really needs to know about Kevin’s opinion about that particular excuse.

Not that that stops Kevin from biting out vitriol that has Sami taking a step back from the anger radiating off of his friend.

“Fuck you. You’re paying the rental free if they notice. Bastard,” Kevin snipes, shifting forward as he rubs a hand down his face, sending droplets of water onto his shirt.

“Okay, fine. You should probably get out of the back seat, if you are so worried about getting the seats wet.”

“I’ll decide when and where I move, fuck you very much, you rude little ginger asshole. Get the hell out of my way.”

Sami scoots backwards, though he barely has a chance to move before Kevin is launching himself up and out of the car, shaking water droplets off of his t-shirt and snapping his head back and forth, splattering Sami with water.

“If it helps any, I am sorry. I just thought-”

Sami finds he has no way to end that explanation, the words he wants to say getting lost in his brain and fading from his mind, rendering him incapable of finishing that sentence. He struggles for a moment, but realizes that it is probably for the best, as what had been going through his head right before dumping water all over Kevin is perhaps not something he should share with anyone, much less Kevin himself.

At best, Sami will get laughed at. At worst, Kevin slams him into the car.

Although, Kevin already looks like he would prefer to do that second one sooner rather than later. And if the dark look in Kevin’s eyes is anything to go off of, Kevin doesn’t really seem like he is in the mood to actually wait for an excuse.

“You thought what? That I needed a bath? Fuck off with your pathetic attempt at placating me,” Kevin growls, reaching out towards Sami, closing the short distance between them with a menacing look in his eyes.

Sami tries not to flinch backwards, just branching himself and waiting for the impact. However, instead of feeling his back collide with sun warmed metal, Kevin reaches forward, grabbing the hem of Sami’s shirt and puling it roughly up, jerking Sami up against him in the process. Sami lurches forward haphazardly, their bodies crashing together with more momentum than Sami was expecting, knocking the wind out of him slightly.

“Ow," Sami gasps, startled, “Kevin-"

Kevin completely disregards Sami’s breathless mumbling, leaning close to Sami, their eyes locking for a heartbeat. Sami finds that his breath refuses to come back to him as the tense silence goes on, Kevin’s dark eyes alight with something odd, yet familiar. It sends a thrill through him, even as he struggles to catch his breath, the pressure of the moment weighing on him even as he goes slightly giddy with relief.

Because, it did _work_ after all.

(Kevin is **_better_** )

For the **moment**.

(He looks _almost_ -)

Happy?

-Pretty sure the giddiness is just the oxygen deprivation-

“Kevin, you are going to rip this shirt. Please don’t, I really like this one-”

“I’m not going to rip your dumb god damn shirt, calm your tits,” Kevin says dismissively, letting out a snort as he raises the front of Sami’s shirt and proceeds to wipe at the water on his face, completely disregarding how close they are, and how awkward the air is between them.

“Hey! That’s-” Sami splutters, but is once again cut off.

“You spill water on me, I use your cloths to clean up the mess. Deal with it or stop fucking dumping liquids on me,” Kevin deadpans, his voice comically muffled as he roughly wipes the steams of water from his cheeks and forehead.

Sami has no real retort for that, not that he really cares. He has finally managed to get some air back in his lungs, now that Kevin is not staring a hole into his soul with those eyes that seem to finally be sparking to life again, for the first time in what seems like years, though it has only been a few days. A few horrible, long, agonizing days of apathetic silence, moody discontent, and a Kevin that Sami barely recognizes.

But only a few days, non the less.

That all seems to be over, at least for the moment. Which is a scary thought, that has Sami leaning closer to Kevin, reaching up to clutch at his arm, ignoring the way that their bodies pressed together makes it feel ten-times hotter than it already does out in the midday blaze, standing next to a sun-warmed car.

(because)

(what if)

What if Kevin was just temporarily better? What if, just like before, when Kevin seemed a little less listless after their weird hallway tussle, this improved mood was only temporary? What if Kevin was just momentarily going back to being his old grumpy self, and he would soon be back to laying passively somewhere, not even arguing when Sami said he would drive, or switched the radio to that one station that Kevin hated.

“Kevin, I take it back. I’m not sorry about pouring water all over you. You look better like this,” Sami blurts, wincing after he has finished speaking, pulling himself away from Kevin a bit to get some distance in case Kevin decides that the way Sami worded that is yell-worthy.

-Why does _everything_ sound like-

Kevin straightens up, planting a hand on Sami’s chest and leaning up against him, though not with any menace, just with his typical smug bravado.

“The fuck is your problem today?” Kevin asks, his gaze searching and laser focused.

Sami fidgets under the stare, feeling exposed and vulnerable for some reason, though it is just the two of them and his shirt is back down over his stomach now.

“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. I do feel all damp now, but that is your fault.”

The silence that reins after those words leave his mouth is a slightly less tense one than any of the others form the last few days, but only because the strained atmosphere has been replaced with an incredulous one.

Sami shuffles, kicking at the ground and avoiding eye contact.

“Everything sounds really filthy, today. For some reason,” Sami supplies in response to the completely flabbergasted look that has stolen across Kevin’s face.

Which Sami would actually find amusing, if the circumstances were any different.

“Get in the goddamn car, you spastic gangly dumbass,” Kevin says, instead of addressing the words coming out of Sami’s mouth.

For which Sami is supremely thankful for. For once, Kevin is taking pity on him, and he is ever so grateful for it.

“But I was driving-”

“Fuck you. You have clearly lost your god damn mind, so it is once again up to me to swoop in like the fucking amazing person that I am, and save you from your own stupid self. Don’t worry, I’ll get us to Philly. You just sit tight and try not to lose what is left of your marbles.”

Kevin pulls the rest of the way away, thumping down into the drivers seat and looking at Sami expectantly.

(Well.)

-This is _technically_ what the plan was for-

Sami just shrugs in response to the look that he is getting, skipping forward and planting a hand on the hood of the rental, hoping up and sliding across the car hood, landing on the other side with a muted thud and a smile that feels like it is lit from within his soul.

“Let’s get going then. I feel like we missed a lifetime of this.”

“The hell does that mean?”

Sami watches Kevin buckle his seat belt and start the car, feeling lighter and more at ease than he has in days.

“Everything, Kevin,” Sami says, meaning the words more than he has ever meant anything in his entire life,“Everything.”


End file.
